


This is not a rom-com!

by jjjat3am



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-13
Updated: 2015-05-13
Packaged: 2018-03-30 10:04:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3932677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jjjat3am/pseuds/jjjat3am
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Steve pose as a couple to infiltrate a cruise ship. It goes about as well as you'd expect.</p>
<p>Featuring a group of the most incompetent henchmen on the planet and a brief mention of colorful Speedos.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This is not a rom-com!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [puckity](https://archiveofourown.org/users/puckity/gifts).



> Written for the [Sam/Steve exchange](http://samstevexchange2015.tumblr.com/)
> 
> I was asked to do Sam and Steve pretending to be a couple on a mission that evolves adorably or hilariously. I have no idea if I hit those goals but here it is anyway.
> 
> Kudos are loved, comments are treasured!

If Sam had known that the search for Bucky Barnes would require infiltrating a cruise ship full of gay couples on their honeymoon, he would have packed his favorite Hawaiian shirt. As it is, his suitcase is filled with listening devices tucked into the folds of a pair of too small Speedos (he was going to kill Natasha when he saw her next, they even had a pair of wings printed on them) and pants that were much too flattering on his backside.

 

This isn’t even the main problem.

 

“Ready to go, uh, babe?” Steve walks out of the bathroom, his blonde hair damp from the steam. Sam’s brain momentarily blanks. Two years and about a million hotel rooms, but Sam still never got over the sight of Captain America in just a towel and a pair of tracksuit pants.

 

“Sam? Are you okay? Do you not like being called babe? I mean, I thought I’d practice being all couple-y, but I can call you something else?” Steve looks so concerned and Sam really wants to reassure him that being called babe iss far from bothersome, but he’s still far too busy, trying not to swallow his own tongue.

 

“You’re not going to shave?” Sam finally manages to say, for lack of better brain function.

 

Steve is sprouting a full beard, and it wasn’t like Sam had never seen him with stubble before, but usually Steve is so adamant about shaving that it never went beyond that. Sam had hardly seen him in the past two days and the result is impressive.

 

“Yeah, Natasha said it might help with the disguise, since my face is kind of recognizable.” Steve frowns, raising his hand to rub his face.

 

“Good thinking,” it was. But then again, Sam wasn’t sure if this whole mission was even a good idea in the first place. Surely there was better ways to approach possible HYDRA operatives than on a cruise ship full of innocent people. Neither he nor Steve were particularly good liars. A knock on the door interrupts his thoughts, and Steve scrambles to pull a shirt from his suitcase and over his head.

 

“Are you two ready?” Natasha pops through the door, looking suspiciously perky. Sam has a feeling she’s enjoying this. “Sam, does your swimsuit fit okay? I had to guess a bit at the size.” Definitely enjoying this.

 

“Oh, it fits just fine. If you could call that…thing a swimsuit! It’s more like a stretchy loincloth!”

 

“It’s just to help you fit in!” They follow her out the door and down the hallway.

 

“How am I going to fit in with a fucking loincloth around my neithers?” Sam can spot Steve muffling a laugh into his fist from the corner of his eye, which is really unfair, because Steve probably doesn’t have to deal with colorful Speedos. Natasha probably bought him something a lot more modest that definitely has little shields on it.

 

“Are we going to go over this mission briefing or do you want to keep talking about Wilson’s swimsuit situation some more? Because by all means, I have all the time in the world.” Agent Hill’s voice comes from the speakers below her annoyed face on the screen.

 

They’re hiding out in one of Natasha’s safehouses, which is technically more of a small cramped apartment that smells of fish all the time, because it’s near the docks. It’s a downgrade after SHIELD’s hi-tech headquarters, but at least it isn’t infested with HYDRA. They’ve been searching for Bucky for a while now, over two years, but they kept getting caught in sidemissions, hunting down HYDRA operatives for the barest scraps of information as to his whereabouts. If it weren’t for Nat and Agent Hill, they’d be entirely lost.

 

“Nobody is allowed to mention my swimsuit or underwear for the duration of this mission, I’ve just decided.” Sam says, elbowing Steve in the ribs when he starts to snicker. “What have you got for us?”

 

“The man you’re after is a Russian drug lord called Ivan Krasnitzky.” Agent Hill holds up a picture of a dark-haired man in his mid-thirties. He’s wearing a suit and a smarmy expression on his face. Sam dislikes him immediately. “He owns the ship, along with his partner Sergei. They apparently like to take a cruise on it once a year, which gives us an excellent opportunity to intercept them without their usually security team.”

 

“All you need to do is get in, convince everyone you’re a couple and break into Krasnitzky’s study to steal the information we need. You can do that, right?” Natasha adds, looking at them expectantly.

 

“Uh, right,” Steve says, shooting Sam a worried look.

 

“Of course we can,” Sam says, trying for brave. The small pair of underwear he’s wearing pinches his ass like a warning.

 

*

 

The mission, predictably, goes to shit.

 

All it takes is one afternoon of them mingling with other cruise goers, pressed too close together with their arms around each other and flinching every time they call each other ‘darling’. Krasnitzky’s goons overpower them the moment they step through their suite door, awkwardly trying to navigate the doorway with their arms still wrapped around each other (because neither of them had thought that just letting go might do the trick).

 

They wake up in chains, somewhere in the ship’s underbelly.

 

Well, Sam wakes up in chains and with a big cut on his head, but Steve’s got a contraption wrapped around his hands that looks somewhat like a cross between a microscope and a cement block. Presumably, to better contain his massive strength.

 

“…and these shackles that look like a cross between a microscope and cement block, to better contain your massive strength!” Krasnitzky is already deep into explaining his master plan. He’s been at it for a while. One of his henchmen is distractedly scrolling through something on his iPhone, the other two have suspiciously glazed looks in their eyes.

 

“Ah, I see your boyfriend is awake!” Krasnitzky turns to a still dazed Sam, who blinks at him half-heartedly, trying to ignore how warmed he feels by Steve’s concerned face. “It’s time for some good old-fashioned torture!” 

 

Krasnitzky is speaking in a strong Russian accent, which is pretty weird considering he was born in the US and his birth name was Smith. “Bring me the torture instruments!” He turns to bark an order at his bored associates. None of them move. The one on the left blinks placidly.

 

“Did you not hear me? Bring me my torture instruments!” he screams at them. One of them finally puts his phone away.

 

“That’s not in my job description,” he says. Krasnitzky is rapidly turning a shade of puce and the vein on his forehead is throbbing. Sam starts worrying he might get a heart attack, but then remembers he’s in chains and stops.

 

“What?”

 

“I was hired for physical altercation and apprehension of the subject only. I am not…” here, the henchman holds up a finger, “a courier service.”

 

Krasnitzky goes for the gun in his coat, but then visibly holds himself back and takes a calming breath before turning to the other goon.

 

“And you? Could you fetch me the torture instruments?” he asks. The other henchman (for all intents and purposes henceforth referred to as Henchman #2 and subsequently never mentioned again) blinks, as if waking up from a long and satisfying daydream.

 

“Uhhhh…I’m just tech support,” he says, causing Krasnitzky to let out a blood-curling scream.

 

“Bring them to the torture chamber then! Or is heavy lifting also not in your job description?”

 

“Well, technically…” “BRING THEM TO THE TORTURE CHAMBER.” “Okay, alright, fine. It’ll cost you extra through.”

 

Moving Sam and Steve proves to be a heavier task than what Krasnitzky had envisioned. Not because they’re putting up much of a fight, but mostly because Steve’s big ugly shackles are too heavy to lift and no one had apparently thought of that up until this moment.

 

Finally, iPhone goon came in with a steel reinforced food trolley (used for moving ice-sculptures and over-the-top wedding cakes) and they managed to lift Steve’s shackles (and by extension, Steve) onto it. The situation would be pretty funny to Sam if he weren’t still feeling woozy from the bum on his head. 

 

When they arrive in the torture chamber, which by all accounts looks like a stereotypical torture chamber, Krasnitzky had already gone, presumably, as they were told by another goon, because his partner Sergei missed him and also because they’d just obtained one of the codes for a nuclear missile launch. 

 

So the goons just left them there, sitting in the middle of the room, Steve still on his trolley and Sam at his feet, his sore head pressed against metal and Steve’s calf.

 

“Sam? Are you okay?” Steve asks, shifting his weight on the trolley. Sam moans in response, as his nice and cold pillow is moving.

 

“Concussion,” he finally manages to say, “have to keep awake.”

 

“I’m sorry I got you into this,” Steve says, and Sam rolls his eyes (even when it makes his stomach churn),   
because they’ve been over this so many times.

 

“I came, because I wanted to,” Sam grits out between clenched teeth. “Came, because I love you.”

 

And maybe that was a bit too honest, maybe it was a bit too fast, but Sam is bleeding from the cut on his head and the torture instruments they’ve got set out look wickedly sharp, so it’s not like he has anything to lose. The smile that blooms on Steve’s face in return makes it all worth it.

 

“Sam…” Steve tries to move his hands and the monstrous shackles around his wrists move, just a little. He looks at Sam, face full of frustration, but also with wonder and…

 

There’s a sound. After a minute, it comes again.

 

They turn around to see two of the henchmen observing them with obvious interest. One of them has a carton of popcorn in his hands and freezes mid-eat when they look at him. The other is carrying a giant handkerchief which he’s using to wipe the tears trickling down his face. After a moment, it becomes apparent that he’s the source of the noise, as he lets out a few more muffled sobs.

 

“Uhh,” Popcorn Henchman says, elbowing his fellow in the ribs. “We didn’t mean to interrupt. Rob is just really sensitive. He cries at everything, really. Last week I bought him a daisy and he just started bawling in the middle of an assassination attempt. We almost lost the job. Anyway, sorry, please carry on, you were just getting to the good part.”

 

“Sorry,” Steve draws up to his full height (or as much as one can, shackled to a giant…whatever it is), “which part was that?”

 

“The part where you confess your undying love to each other!” says the Popcorn henchman. “Please, go ahead, don’t let us bother you, it’s like we aren’t even here. And you know, if you bend down a little bit you can probably…you know, kiss and stuff.”

 

“This is the best assignment we’ve ever been on,” Rob wails into his handkerchief. Popcorn henchman hands him another handkerchief in a rehearsed motion.

 

“Could we at least have some privacy?” Steve says, pleading look on his face.

 

“Or you could untie him,” Sam adds in the most persuasive voice he can manage. At this point he isn’t even actually sure if what he’s seeing is a hallucination caused by his head injury or if it’s really happening.

 

The henchmen exchange a look.

 

“Well, we’re not supposed to,” Popcorn Henchman says slowly. “Honestly, we barely got this job in the first place and we’ve got an apartment…”

 

It’s at that moment that their conversation is interrupted by loud gunfire and Natasha kicking in the door.

 

The rest of the fight is a blur for Sam, but he’s conscious of the explosions and someone, probably Steve, carrying him gently in their arms. The next thing he’s aware of is Steve’s anxious face above him as he gets loaded into the ambulance.

 

“Steve…” he says weakly, and Steve smiles reassuringly down at him.

 

“I’m right here, Sam,” he says. “On your left, remember?”

 

*

 

“Look! Look! They’re holding hands!” Rob sobs into the officer’s uniform, as he’s lead to the police vehicle. Everyone in the parking lot collectively sighs. Steve turns around, annoyed look on his face.

 

“Do you mind??” Everyone looks away guiltily. In the background, Natasha starts laughing her ass off. Sam closes his eyes in the ambulance and sighs. He doesn’t let go of Steve’s hand though.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [tumblr](http://jjjat3am.tumblr.com/)


End file.
